


Worth It

by SpicedGold



Series: The Nara Family [16]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22693813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: Nothing lasts forever.And goodbyes hurt.
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Series: The Nara Family [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1160966
Comments: 17
Kudos: 255





	Worth It

The stag had been in the forest for as long as Temari had known Shikamaru. She first saw him walking through the village with Shikaku, as though it was perfectly normal to go about your day with a regal stag tailing you. She had seen him periodically throughout dating Shikamaru, and more so once she and Shikamaru became an official item. Many days saw Shikamaru and the mahogany-coloured stag hanging out together, sometimes walking through the forest, sometimes the stag watched when Shikamaru sat on the porch, sometimes he stood over Shikamaru’s many naps.

When Shikadai had been young, Shikamaru had presented his child proudly to the animal, because this particular deer had been his father’s favourite, and still felt like a piece of him. And the gentle old stag had let Shikadai’s fingers clutch wonderingly at his face, had mouthed gently at the child, had given Temari a haughty look when she snapped that if Shikamaru let her child get eaten by a deer she was going to kill him with a blunt rusty spoon.

So it wasn’t unusual to see them together, like they were now – the stag lying serenely on the grass just outside the back porch, legs folded neatly under himself, and Shikamaru lying against his stomach, head tilted to rest on the deer’s back and eyes closed. The stag had his head curled around in Shikamaru’s lap, and the only way Temari could tell her husband wasn’t asleep was by the way one of his hands gently caressed the deer’s neck and head in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

She almost wanted to call it cute.

“Is Dad sleeping?” A voice interrupted her as she watched from the back door.

She turned her head to look at Shikadai. “No, he’s just sitting there pretending to sleep. What do you need from him?”

Shikadai shrugged, coming to stand at her side. “I got stuck training today with Chocho and Inojin. Wanted to ask him something.”

“Shikamaru!” Temari called. “Your son needs you.”

The hand stroking the stag came to a halt, and Shikamaru answered drowsily, “Tomorrow. We’re bonding.”

“Bonding,” Temari rolled her eyes. “You’ve been there for hours already.”

“Jani’s sleeping,” he replied, without moving.

Shikadai hopped off the porch and crossed the grass to them. “Dad, I was using the Shadow Binding and-“

“Shh,” Shikamaru interrupted. “You’ll wake him.”

“He’s _deaf_ ,” Shikadai said in disbelief. “How can I wake him?”

Shikamaru’s lip quirked up in a smile. “Okay, you won’t wake him. What’s the problem?”

“Inojin broke my shadow hold,” Shikadai said. “Like, really, really easily. I think I’m doing it wrong.”

The stag lifted his head slightly, blinking at Shikadai. His eyes were hazy, dark brown hidden behind storm-cloud grey. Shikamaru rubbed his forehead, knuckles rubbing through dark fur that these days was peppered with more and more grey hair. “We can practice together soon.”

Shikadai held out a hand for the stag to sniff. “Cool.”

The stag shifted in place, straightening his neck. Shikamaru stood up, stepping back to allow the animal room to maneuver his legs. The deer stumbled slightly when trying to get up, almost losing his balance, but after a second attempt, he stood, legs braced, shaking his head and looking around.

“Shikadai, go fetch him an apple or something,” Shikamaru said, laying a hand on the deer’s back.

With a loud, dramatic sigh, Shikadai turned and ambled back to the house. He came running back, holding his hand out with an apple on his palm.

“Hey, Jani, you hungry?” Shikamaru asked, gently guiding the deer’s head towards Shikadai’s outstretched hand. The animal nosed at the apple curiously, but made no move to take it.

Shikamaru plucked it from Shikadai’s hand, taking a kunai and slicing off smaller, easier to chew pieces, which Jani finally deigned to take.

“He never eats when I feed him,” Shikadai grumbled.

Shikamaru smiled fondly at the deer, rubbing the knuckles of his hand against the animal’s neck. “He’s just fussy.”

Shikadai rolled his eyes, and meandered back to the house.

When Shikamaru stayed where he was, long after Jani had finished his snack, Temari called out to them. “Planning on standing there all night?”

“Just keeping an eye on him,” Shikamaru replied. There was a slight strain in his tone, and Temari felt her heart sink slightly.

Jani stood still, legs braced slightly outwards, his head low.

The rest of the forest was quiet, all the other deer having moved off for the evening; they rarely stayed near the house at night.

“He’s not going to get water,” Shikamaru muttered, staring at the deer.

“Maybe he’s not thirsty?” Temari suggested.

“Maybe it’s too far.” Shikamaru scratched the back of his neck. “Watch him, I’m going to fetch him some.”

Temari stayed on the porch. Jani remained still, head low, breathing slightly laboured, and Temari couldn’t help the sick twist low in her stomach.

_This deer is going to die_ , she thought. _And it’s going to tear Shikamaru apart_. She stepped aside when Shikamaru came outside again with a bucket of water and carried it to Jani.

The old stag drank thirstily, and Temari sighed. She wondered if Shikamaru could see what was happening right in front of him, or if he was choosing to ignore it, and pretend that Jani wasn’t living his very last days.

Shikamaru returned to her, looking worried. The sun was setting fast. “It’s getting cold. He’s all alone.”

He watched the deer over his shoulder. “Tem, I’m going to bring him closer to the house and sit with him tonight. He doesn’t have a herd around him to keep him warm.”

She wasn’t going to disagree. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“There’s a bunch of old blankets in the top cupboard of Shikadai’s room, can you bring them to me? I’ll get everything else.”

“Sure.” She wondered if he knew it was probably Jani’s last night. The old stag didn’t look like he was going to do much more with his life. She didn’t say it, though, just did as she was asked.

When she returned outside, Shikamaru was busy raking a patch of ground flat to build a fire.

Temari dropped the blankets on the edge of the porch. “I brought your coat out, too.”

“Thanks,” he said absently, eyes on the still figure of the deer. He got a fire started, then shook out a few blankets onto the ground, leaving the rest to lay over Jani. He went to the deer, gently taking him by the base of one antler to lead him to the house. Jani took stiff, small steps, stumbling once or twice.

“You’re okay,” Shikamaru murmured. “Come on, we can make it.”

The stag inspected the piles of blankets, nosing at them curiously, before settling down on them. Shikamaru sat next to him, guiding the deer’s head into his lap.

“Do you need me to stay with you?” Temari asked.

Shikamaru shook his head.

“Okay. I’ll get Shikadai sorted out, then I’ll check you on again. You sure you’re happy to spend the night out here with him?”

“Yeah,” Shikamaru rubbed the deer’s ear softly. “We’re fine. Hey, bud, we’re fine, aren’t we?”

Jani blinked at him, eyes veiled in grey.

Temari spent the night getting up, checking them, going back to bed, and repeating the cycle. It was strange to her, how attached he was to the deer. She didn’t understand it, but she knew how easy it was for Shikamaru to love something. It came so naturally to him, and spilled over from his family to the deer, and the forest, and his village.

_Why love them so much, if it’s so hard to say goodbye?_ She wondered, on the third trip outside.

Shikamaru had fallen asleep, propped against the porch, with Jani’s head still in his lap. He would have a stiff neck in the morning, but she didn’t want to wake him when she knew he was worried, and would struggle to go back to sleep.

When she found them in the morning, Shikamaru was stroking the deer’s neck softly, while Jani lay listlessly, blinking slowly.

“Can you fetch him something to eat?” Shikamaru asked softly, never taking his eyes off the animal. “There’s an open bag of feed in the shed. The stuff I sometimes give the youngsters.”

“Okay.” She didn’t move immediately. She watched him, critically, noting the tired look on his face, the mechanical way he stroked, and stroked, and stroked. _You know_ , she thought, heart clenching slightly. _You know he’s not going to last much longer._

She returned with a bucket of the small mixed grain and pellets that Shikamaru liked to spoil the deer with, and he offered Jani a handful. The stag nosed at the grain, but didn’t move to take any.

“Come on,” Shikamaru whispered. “Aren’t you hungry? Maybe you want something else. The blackberry bushes have fruit on them. And it’s not far to walk.”

Temari folded her arms across her stomach as Shikamaru tried again to get Jani to take the grain.

“He’s not eating,” Shikamaru said in a dull voice.

She wished she could do something to ease the pain that was settling in Shikamaru’s chest, the slamming reality that Jani was dying, right in his arms, that his father’s favourite deer wouldn’t be around for much longer.

Shikamaru stood up, pulling on the base of an antler to encourage Jani up. This time, when he spoke, his voice was trembling slightly, “You can’t lie down all day, big guy. Gotta get up.”

Jani heaved a sigh, but he tried, arranging his legs and trying to find a position he could rise from.

Jani struggled to his feet, stumbling and swaying, and Shikamaru braced him on one side, only letting go when Jani’s swaying eased.

“Come on,” Shikamaru said, tugging softly on Jani’s ear. “Let’s get something to eat. Let’s go find your herd.”

Jani stayed where he was, head hanging low. Shikamaru took him by the antler, trying to pull him forwards. Jani took hesitant, small, stumbling steps.

“That’s it,” Shikamaru said. “Step by step. No rush.”

A few metres across the grass, and Jani stopped again with a low, plaintive moan.

“Your herd is right there,” Shikamaru mumbled, his throat feeling suddenly tight. “I can see them. I know you can’t, Jani, but they’re close. You can make it to them. They need you.” And he needed something normal. He needed Jani to go to his herd, to spend the day grazing with them, as though nothing was wrong, as though nothing was changing, as though the world wasn’t crumbling around him.

As though he didn’t feel sick to his stomach.

Jani took a step, and collapsed to his knees. Shikamaru moved instantly to the front of the animal, taking his weight, lifting him up.

“Come on,” Shikamaru breathed. “Come on, Jani, stay up.” His arms were around the stag’s neck, shoulder holding his head up, and he whispered into the warm pelt. “Jani, don’t fall.”

The stag stayed still, swaying slightly on his feet. He was heavy against Shikamaru’s body.

“I got you. You’re okay, it’s okay.” Shikamaru breathed. “It’s _okay_ -”

Jani leaned harder against him, warbling a soft, gentle crooning noise that shot right through Temari as she watched them, because she knew what a goodbye sounded like. Jani sank down into the grass, making no effort to keep himself upright any longer.

“Jani, no, please,” Shikamaru buckled to the ground, landing heavily on his knees, cradling Jani’s face. “Don’t, please. Not you. Not yet.”

The old stag attempted to rise, spurred on by Shikamaru’s pleading. He rolled onto his chest, knees tucked up under him, tried to push up with his hind legs. His legs trembled weakly, and he gave up, sinking down to rest on the grass with a low groan.

“You can’t go. Not Dad’s favourite,” Shikamaru smoothed the hair on Jani’s face, looking into the deer’s eyes. “Stay with me a bit longer. I need you longer.”

Temari watched him, swallowing down the rising unease.

“Not Dad’s favourite,” Shikamaru repeated, hiding his face against the deer’s fur. “Jani, do not leave me. You’re the last thing I have of him, _do not leave_ _me_ . . .”

Temari shifted her weight from one leg to the other, unsure of what to do. There wasn’t anything she could do.

Jani rested with his chin on Shikamaru’s shoulder, taking in short, shallow breaths.

“Come on, Jani, come on,” Shikamaru pleaded. “Just stay a little longer. Just give me a little more time. I’m not ready yet.”

_You never will be_ , Temari thought, shaking her head slowly. She wished she could help him somehow, could ease the grief and the hurt.

“Jani,” Shikamaru whispered, pressing his cheek firmly into the warm fur of the stag’s neck. “Jani, don’t go.”

Jani let out one long, low groan, his whole body shuddering. Then he grew still, weighing heavier on Shikamaru’s shoulder.

Temari watched Shikamaru’s grip falter, fingers losing purchase on the smooth fur, then they gripped tight again. She hesitated, unsure if she should go and talk to him or not.

Shikadai came quietly to her side. He looked subdued, frowning across the grass at the sight of Shikamaru kneeling on the ground. “Hey, Mom,” he said softly. “I’m going to school now . . .”

“Okay,” she nodded.

Shikadai turned to leave, then hesitated. “Um . . . You’ll be with Dad today, right?”

“Yes.” She was slightly surprised by the question.

“Because, he’s gonna need someone . . .” Shikadai shrugged. “So . . . don’t leave him, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Shikadai hesitated again, then moved determinedly away.

Temari waited a few more minutes, before crossing the grass and coming to stand near Shikamaru. Jani was still taking small, huffing breaths, open-mouthed and shallow. She laid a hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder, but to her surprise he shrugged her off, turning to press his face harder into Jani’s neck, hiding his expression from her.

She took the hint, backing off a few steps, but she could still hear him desperately whispering, “Jani, please, don’t go, please not yet, please . . .”

She watched Jani take in a sharp breath, then let it out very, very slowly. She was watching him carefully, eyes trained on his body, but he didn’t draw in another breath after that.

Shikamaru tensed, shoulders drawing tight. He didn’t loosen his grip on Jani’s fur. His fingers flexed, gathering more soft fur, holding on tightly, as though it would help. As though it might change something.

_Let him go_ , Temari thought. _I know it’s hard, but let him go._

Minutes stretched on, until finally, Shikamaru lifted Jani’s head off his shoulder and shuffled back enough to lay the stag’s head down very gently on the ground. He tugged lightly on Jani’s ear, like he always did when they were together, and tenderly wiped Jani’s eyes, then lowered the stag’s eyelids.

It looked like Jani was sleeping. Serene and peaceful, and regal as ever. Just lying on the grass, basking in the sun. Just a normal day.

Temari stepped back when Shikamaru stood. He stared at Jani for a moment, then walked purposefully to the porch to gather up one of the big blankets. She spoke his name softly as he passed her, but he just shook his head and said nothing in reply.

He slung the blanket over Jani, making sure it was smooth and free from irritating wrinkles. He lingered at Jani’s head, tugging his ears softly again, before finally pulling the blanket to cover the stag’s face. He still said nothing, but Temari could see the tightness in his jaw, the slight tremble that he was clenching his teeth to suppress.

She stayed out of his way, returning to the back door as he went around the house to the shed.

He fetched the shovel and a small hand saw from the shed, and moved to the big oak tree where Temari had often seen him and Jani laying together, where she knew Yoshino had many a photograph of Shikaku and Jani doing the same thing.

Shikamaru leaned one arm against the tree, leaning until his forehead touched the smooth bark, as he gathered the strength to carry out his task. After a minute of leaning, of carefully measured breathing, he straightened up and turned to start digging.

Temari came to check on him.

“Do you want help?” she asked quietly.

Shikamaru shook his head, not meeting her eyes, not stopping what he was doing. She didn’t reach towards him, because she knew if she did he would break down, and he was trying so hard to be strong. She folded her arms across her stomach to resist the urge to reach for him.

“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen. Or should I stay with you?”

He shook his head again, keeping his gaze down, shoveling dirt with his jaw locked tensely.

Temari watched him from the kitchen window.

There were easier ways to dig a hole, but he looked like he wanted to lose himself in the mindless physical activity. A few of the deer wandered to his side. Several nosed at the blanketed lump on the grass, and one doe settled to lie down nearby, swiveling her gaze between Shikamaru and the blanket.

Another young stag stayed close to Shikamaru, watching him. Temari wandered around the house, picking things up and straightening other things, checking in on Shikamaru’s progress frequently.

It was rolling into late afternoon by the time he put the shovel down.

He packed straw into the bottom of the hole – “So he’s comfortable,” he mumbled, when Temari watched him pulling the second bale of straw from the shed – letting several younger deer nose around and pick up pieces of it in their mouths.

He stopped to rub one on the forehead, scuffing up the youngster’s fur, then wiped a hand across his face and moved back to where Jani lay.

“Shikamaru,” she called softly from the porch. He didn’t look back at her, but she knew he had heard. “Do you need help moving him?”

There was no verbal reply – she knew he was fighting back tears, and speaking would break him down – but he shook his head, keeping his back to her. She didn’t push it; he needed to deal with it in his own way.

So she gave him the space he wanted, but stayed close enough to hear him if he wanted her. She pretended to wash the dishes, standing at the sink and looking out the window as Shikamaru folded the blanket back and tied a rope around Jani’s ribs, throwing the other end over one of the oak branches, and he hauled the deer up until he was over the hole.

Very carefully, inch by inch, the lowered the animal, as smoothly as he could, and Temari felt her chest tighten at that because he was so gentle, so careful. Poor Shikamaru, who was never ready to let things go, who held onto things he loved so fiercely. Doing his best to be gentle, when it didn’t matter anymore.

When he climbed into the grave to set Jani lying comfortably, she turned away, unwilling to watch more. She went out the front, trying to keep busy. She watered the plants, and chased the young deer off the apple tree Shikamaru had been coaxing to grow, and waved to a few clan members who were passing by.

When she returned to the kitchen, finally daring to look outside again, Shikamaru was kneeling in the dirt, that was freshly packed into the ground, looking hunched and defeated. There was a pair of antlers near him – Jani’s, Temari knew. He would have cut them off for medicinal use, so something good could come out of the deer’s passing.

“Shikamaru,” she called softly. “Come inside.”

For a while, he didn’t respond. Then, he heaved a sigh, and stood up, picking up the antlers. He brushed past her as he came into the house, leaving the antlers on the porch, and not looking at her. She allowed it. She would give him a bit more time to pretend to hold it together, a bit more time to act as though he was fine, before she broke him down and let him get it all out.

He went into the lounge, and she didn’t follow him.

She stayed busy, shifting the antlers to the front door so she could take them wherever they needed to be in the morning, but not before cutting a small piece off for Shikamaru to keep. She was making dinner when Shikadai came home, creeping hesitantly into the kitchen, peering out the window at the freshly dug earth and the few deer lingering, and asked quietly, “Is Dad okay?”

“Not yet. Give him time,” Temari replied.

Shikadai paused. “Should I . . . go and talk to him?”

“He doesn’t want to talk yet. But you can try.”

Shikadai moved silently to the lounge, looking carefully around the door. When he received nothing – not a glance, not a shrug, not a grunt – he left, wandering past Temari. “. . . I think he wants to be alone.”

She would fix that later. “Okay, kid. We’ll leave him for a bit.”

She and Shikadai ate supper silently together, and once the sun was setting, Shikadai wandered off to shower and get ready for bed. Then Temari sought out her husband, figuring he had been alone long enough, and now she needed him to stop bottling everything up.

Shikamaru was still sitting on the couch staring blankly at nothing. She could barely see him breathing.

She stayed in the doorway, just watching him for a moment.

He blinked occasionally, but otherwise remained completely still, eyes never moving from the spot on the wall he had fixed on and refused to look away from. He wouldn’t ask her, but she knew what he wanted. He wanted to cuddle. He wanted to snuggle, and breathe in her scent, and just be enveloped by her warmth.

He wouldn’t ask, because he knew if he did, his voice would shake and crack, and she’d tease him for it . . . And he wouldn’t talk. He didn’t want to talk. There wasn’t anything to say.

Temari left the doorway, walking softly towards him. As expected, she received no acknowledgement. She sat down next to him, taking one of his hands in hers. There was still dirt under his fingernails.

“Shikadai’s asleep,” she said eventually, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles. “I said good night from both of us.”

Shikamaru didn’t even turn his head.

“And I told Naruto you weren’t coming in tomorrow.” She watched him swallow, throat bobbing, eyes shining wet again. He was so easy to read, her sweet and sympathetic cry baby. “Your mom said she’d stop by. Probably after lunch.”

He needed to crumble. He needed to break down and let everything out. But he was being unusually stubborn, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall and refusing to engage with her.

It didn’t matter. Temari could break him down. “Ino and Chouji wanted to visit, too.”

He swallowed again, twice, in rapid succession.

She held his hand a bit more firmly. “Chouza’s coming with them.”

That was all it took. She watched him snap his eyes closed, jaw tense, breath pausing for a moment as he tried _so hard_ not to break down, and she pulled him gently towards her. She leaned back, getting comfortable, as she would probably be there for a while, and Shikamaru pressed his face into her shoulder, hands gripping at her almost desperately, his whole body shaking in big, tearful shudders that he was trying _so hard_ to hide.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, arms around him. She thought of adding more – _it’s okay to be sobbing your heart out, it’s okay to scream a bit, and cry a bit, because you lost something important, and it’s okay to let that out, I won’t tell anyone . . ._ But she didn’t, because he didn’t want to listen, and she’d got what she needed from him.

So she just held him silently, occasionally brushing her fingers through his hair, listening to him sob and shudder and gulp for air. And when he was finally still and quiet against her, she still said nothing. She knew he wasn’t asleep. It was only when he relaxed his grip on her, shifted to hold her more comfortably, that she spoke. “Shikamaru. Let’s go to bed.”

He nodded once against her chest, then swiftly stood up, turning his back to her again, and she smiled fondly at him. Trying not to let her see him. As though he could hide anything from her. She let him, though, let him feel that control, though it was flimsy and neither of them believed in it.

They got undressed with the lights off, with Shikamaru edging closer and closer to her with each task – staying a fraction nearer when she threw his pajamas at him. Almost at her side while they brushed their teeth. Right behind her while she brushed her hair.

Then, finally, laying a hand on her thigh when they were in bed.

“You didn’t eat anything today,” Temari said softly.

“Not hungry.”

She laid her hand over his. He let out a deep sigh, his whole body decompressing slightly. This was where Shikamaru was most himself, was most honest. When it was dark, when it was just the two of them, when the world was sleeping peacefully. This was where Temari learnt who Shikamaru really was.

“One of the does had twins,” he whispered, voice slightly hoarse. “She’s been keeping them hidden. I saw them the last time Jani and I went looking for antlers together.”

Temari didn’t add anything.

“Haven’t seen your doe in a while,” Shikamaru added.

_Her doe_ , the little dark brown deer that had been the first deer Temari had ever seen properly. The first one she had touched.

“I’ll go find her tomorrow. Maybe move her closer to the house. She’s getting older, you know.”

Temari nodded.

“Will you come with me?”

Ah, there it was. The need for company. The need to be reassured that she was not leaving, that she would stay with him, since Jani had left, and his father had left. “Yes. I’ll come with you.”

That seemed to settle him, and he relaxed further, letting his eyes close. She cupped a hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him softly.

Temari knew the cycle would repeat itself.

Shikamaru would go out and find the doe, and encourage her close to the house, where he could watch her when the weather was bad and food was scarcer. He would watch her grow older, watch her cease to bolt and run about in the springtime, and watch her grow quieter. Watch the grey hairs rise up on her face, watch the light in her eyes dim, watch the shine on her coat grow dull.

He would feed her and coddle her until she, too, passed on. And it would break him again, and Temari would pick up the pieces again, and they would both do it all over, as often as needed.

Because heartbreak was the price of love, but that was okay, too.

Because as she looked at him, and he moved closer to the warmth of her body, pressed against her and settled into an exhausted sleep, she knew it was worth it.

It was always worth falling in love.


End file.
